


Turn and Face the Strange

by conej0s



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Middle School, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Human Lusii, Humanstuck, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Multi, dave has a pet bird, karkat has shit taste in music, the johnvris in this is very light
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-07-28 08:57:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7634005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/conej0s/pseuds/conej0s
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A new face is introduced to Karkat's group of friends when Dave moves in with Rose and her family. Things aren't as they seem though, and the more Karkat gets to know Dave, the more they both unearth family secrets that change them forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> the latest thrilling installment of "i suck at titles so i'm using song lyrics".
> 
> i don't yet know how long this fic is going to be, but it's at least going to extend into mid-high school story-wise. also, while i fully acknowledge that bro is a shitty person, his personality is a little more like dirk's in this, so he'll have a character arc. it is a central aspect of the story, so if it really bothers you, idk what to tell you. this will not be abuse-apologism, though, i promise.
> 
> btw if this is unclear in the fic, it takes place in new york state. mom lalonde and dadbert got married, so now john and rose live together in rose's house, then dave moves in with them.

_August 24, 2009_

_Karkat_

 

On the first day of eighth grade, as with all the days in your previous years of middle school, your band of misfits sits at the usual lunchtime meeting place: the scuffed up, circular table that sits in the southeastern corner of the cafeteria.

Kanaya always sits on the western edge of the table, where a patch of sun filters in through the grimy window. There she grazes on the cold lunch her overbearing mother meticulously packed for her while reading Anne Rice. To her left sits Rose, whom you’d both met in world history class at the beginning of sixth grade. She supplies wry comments and advice between writing fan fiction or knitting, but never actually eats lunch. This is primarily because her mom is barely conscious when she packs lunches, and more often than not Rose ends up with something bizarre, like an entire head of lettuce, or a ham sandwich with marshmallow fluff instead of mayonnaise. Next to her is John, who had recently become her stepbrother after her mother and his father got married the previous summer. You begrudgingly describe him as one of your closest friends.

Vriska eats by John's other side, pilfering crackers from his lunch and poking him in the ribs whenever she wants to interject. She stopped buying hot lunch when she realized it was easier to mooch food off of the others at the table. Terezi, who is practically fused at Vriska’s hip, chows down on a bag of jellybeans while absent-mindedly using scented markers to scribble in a Dragon Tales coloring book. Bits of technicolor candy spray out of her mouth when she laughs or speaks, which is fairly often. The bright red of the tinted glasses clash with natural red of her hair, something she wouldn’t care about even if she could see. Finally, between you and her is Jade, who usually waits until lunch to do her homework, occasionally looking up to glare at or tease you when you say something she feels is particularly bizarre or off-color. Being that it’s the first day of school, though, she simply chatters and eats her lunch like everyone else.

As you settle down, you pull your well-worn lunchbox out of your backpack. You realize with disappointment but not surprise that your dad has, per usual, packed leftovers from his job. You are sick to death of all the seafood he pushes on you.

“Okay, now that everyone’s here, Rose and I have big news!” John begins chipperly, raising his voice over the cacophony of noise in the cafeteria, “Rose, you do the honors.” He says, turning to her.

“It’s really not that big of a deal,” She prefaces, “But my cousin Dave from Texas is moving in with John and me.”

Jade unearths a thermos from her backpack and unscrews the lid. “What’s he like?”

“He’s… an acquired taste. You should be able to find out for yourself soon enough. He was with me when I came into school this morning, and I think he’ll be joining us momentarily.” Rose describes without looking up from her knitting. Her current work in progress is a grey and mauve baret.

You recall seeing a boy riding a skateboard beside her on the sidewalk outside the baseball field that morning. In retrospect, he bore a striking similarity to her in appearance, only he was thinner and taller, with slightly darker skin. The sunglasses he wore made it difficult to place any similar facial features, though.

“It wasn’t that douche with the aviators, was it?” You ask flatly, taking a bite out of your soggy crab-salad sandwich.

Rose sighs dramatically. “Actually, it was ‘that douche with the aviators’. How observant of you.”

“Hey,” John chastises, glaring at you over his sandwich, “He’s not a ‘douche’, at least not any more than _you_ are. In fact, you guys have so much in common it’s almost weird sometimes.”

“I doubt that.” You retort curtly.

John smirks. “No, really. For one thing, you’re both gross.”

You roll your eyes.

“No, really. 80% of what either of you guys say is something about piss or shit or dicks. Like, the way he talks is basically just like you if you weren’t as loud and made more shitty pop culture references.” John explains, taking a bite of his sandwich, which has no meat because Vriska stole the turkey off of it while he wasn’t looking.

Vriska picks away at the blue polish on her fingernails. “Just what we need, more idiots who ramble about poop and dicks.” She comments dryly.

“He talks to himself like you, too.” Rose adds.

You pound a fist on the table. “I don’t talk to myself!”

“You kinda do, actually.” Jade puts in, taking a sip from her thermos. “Like, when you’re doing something you don’t like, you’ll start complaining to yourself. It’s pretty funny.”

“Yeah!” Terezi agrees enthusiastically. “There was that time we went camping and you got lost in the woods. You were wandering in circles twenty feet away and we could all hear you rant to yourself.”

Your cheeks redden. “You heard me all along and you didn’t come get me? What the hell?!”

“Oh, plus he likes shitty music like you.” John recalls.

Rose looks up from her knitting, eyeing him quizzically. “It’s not even remotely the same kind of music, John.”

“Fuck you, my music isn’t shitty. You’re just too dense to understand its insight. Most of you shallow twats seem to prefer listening to the sound equivalent of someone birthing an elephant through their anus, or whatever other insipid drivel is on the charts.” You say icily, punctuating the insult with a voracious bite from your sandwich.

Rose turns to you with a faux-sympathetic expression. “If it consolidates you, Karkat, Dave’s music is leaps and bounds more awful that your shrill cock rock could ever be.”

“It’s not that bad, Rose. I mean, yeah all the pretentious indie bands and white-guy rap are pretty terrible, but doesn’t Karkat like Linkin Park?”

“Jesus getting fucked backwards with a porpoise,” You exclaim, “How many times have I told you that that was just a phase? I don’t listen to them anymore!”

John chuckles. “You do still listen to Avril Lavigne, though.”

“Fuck you, her early stuff is very emotionally insightful. Since when was this about my music anyway? When did you introducing your step-cousin or whatever turn into the ‘Har-de-Har Chucklefucks Roast Karkat Funtime Hour’?”

Terezi snorts. “Sounds like pretty much every lunch to me.”

You open your mouth to object, but John speaks first. “Dave! We’re over here” He calls, waving his hands.

Everyone looks up at the recipient of John’s shouting and gestures. It’s the same lanky blonde skateboarder from earlier. He turns his head when he hears the commotion, but his face doesn’t move at all. He turns and walks over, flipping his bangs.

You curl your lip at his mannerisms. You hate it when guys do the whole twink-on-the-cover-of-a-trashy-tabloid bangs flip. _Jesus, just get a haircut you preening douche_ , you think.

“You must be Dave,” Kanaya says offhandedly, looking up from her book. “I’ve heard a lot of things about you. More things than I ever wanted to know, actually.”

Terezi smiles. “You smell like birds and electrical tape.”

Jade wipes the soup off of her face with her sleeve. “Hiya, Dave.”

“Ladies, ladies, one at a time. There’s only so much of me to do around.” He says, pulling up a chair and inviting himself to sit between you and Kanaya.

Your roll your eyes.

“Everyone, this is my cousin.” She gestures, then looks at him expectantly. “Tell them about yourself so I don’t have to.”

“Yeah, hold on a minute.” He digs around in his backpack, then pulls out a bag of cheetos. He noisily opens the bag and continues. “I’m Dave. Came here from Houston. I like to write comics and drop rhymes. Uh… I have a bird.” He explains awkwardly.

“I knew it.” Terezi says smugly.

You clear your throat. “Why are you wearing sunglasses indoors?” You ask stonily.

“Because I feel like it.” He answers through a mouthful of cheetos.

“Yeah, I gave him them!” John clarifies. “I’m flattered that you’re still wearing them, dude.”

Dave hesitates before agreeing, “It’s no big deal. They’re probably your most successful attempt at irony. Gotta show that off, like I’m taping my kid’s crayon drawing to the fridge.”

Your curl your lip. “What’s ironic about a pair of ugly women’s eyewear? Did you not pass English class? Doing or wearing something idiotic for the hell of it isn’t irony. In this case, it’s just being an asshole and devaluing John’s gift; you’re only wearing what he gave you sardonically. Goddamn, why don’t you cram how embarrassed you are to wear what he gave you in his face some more.”

John rolls his eyes. “Karkat, stop reading so far into this. It’s just Dave’s thing.”

“If you mean to say that Dave’s ‘thing’ is being pretentious and insincere. At least when Rose does it she doesn’t make it her ‘thing’.” You retort

“Wow, don’t flatter me too much, Karkat.” Rose chimes in, raising an eyebrow.

You gesture to her. “See? She knows what she’s doing. You should be taking notes, Dave; this is actual rhetorical irony.”

“Besides,” John continues, ignoring your spiel, “I _meant_ for the shades to be ironic. There’s this weird B-movie from a couple years ago that Dave likes… mostly ironically I think. Anyway, they’re actually an authentic movie prop.”

“Is it really a B-movie if most of the actors in it are well-known celebrities and comedians? Wouldn’t it just be a flopped major picture?” Rose wonders aloud.

Dave gracelessly chomps down another handful of cheetos. “Yo, don’t diss Starsky and Hutch.”

Vriska sighs, choosing to change the subject. “So is your name short for David or something?”

“No,” Dave answers curtly, “It’s short for, ‘if you call me David I’m going to shove a rusty fork in your ear’.”

“I’m pretty sure it just says ‘Dave’ on his birth certificate, but calling him David is an excellent way to irritate him if you were wondering, Vriska.” Rose suggests coyly.

Vriska smirks at that.

Jade chuckles. “You really don’t look like much of a Hasselhoff or a Bowie, Dave.”

“I’m not enough of a sell-out to be the first and I don’t wear high heels often enough to be the second.” He agrees, wiping the cheeto dust from his fingers off on his pants and reaching into his backpack again.

“Anyway, what’s Texas like?” Jade asks. You can see a warped reflection of her in his godawful sunglasses.

He takes out a bottle of apple juice. “Uh… hot.”

“No shit.” You remark.

He unscrews the cap on the bottle. “Well, it’s not like I lived in the middle of the goddamn desert. My place is, or uh, was, an apartment in Houston.”

“Wait… ‘was’? You mean to say that you’re here permanently?” Excitement seeps into Jade’s voice.

“What did I do to deserve this?” You mutter under your breath. When you turn to Dave, though, he doesn’t seem thrilled about the prospect either.

He shifts uncomfortably. The unsure look on his face doesn’t suit him.

Rose senses the unease and interjects. “Well, we’ll see. We’re not entirely sure for now.”

You wonder why he would have any problems with living with his best friends after what you can guess was a long stint of communicating through the internet. The derision in your tone before melts away. “What’s wrong? Did you have friends in Houston or something?”

“Karkat, please don’t pry.” Rose directs firmly.

Vriska folds her arms. “Talk about irony. That’s rich coming from you.” She sasses, but is quickly silenced by a dirty look from Rose.

Dave slowly takes a sip a his juice. “No, no it’s, uh… not really a big deal. There’s just some shit that needs figured out.”

After an awkward silence that feels much longer than it actually was, Terezi clears her voice. “So, what’s your next class, Dave?”

“Lemme see.” He digs around in his bag, unearthing a crumpled piece of copy paper. “Looks like… English, room 230.”

 _Looks like my luck ran out after the first three classes of the day_ , you note mentally. You hope that you don’t have him in any of the classes in tomorrow’s rotation.

“Damn, I’ve got natural science.” Terezi grumbles.

“As do I.” Rose reveals. “I won’t be able to show Dave where it is. Does anybody here go to 230 next?”

You keep mum as everyone shuffles through their papers. _Please, someone else take him. Anybody else. I can’t be the only one who has English with him._

“Oop, looks like I have gym next.” Jade proclaims after glancing at the handwriting on her arm.

Vriska chews her lip. “I think I have study hall fourth period.”

“I’m also in natural science.” John puts in.

Kanaya scans her schedule. “I’m in gym with you, Jade.” She turns her eyes to you expectantly.

You sigh. “I have English.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karkat and Dave discover their shared interest in Terezi. Shenanigans ensue.

“So what's the deal with your name?” Dave asks tactlessly as he follows you to class. “‘Karkat’. It sounds like a Pokémon or something.”

You roll your eyes for what feels like the thousandth time in the last hour. “Could you have possibly found a more offensive way to ask that? It’s a sanskrit name, smartass. My mom was from Northern India. I assume whatever unholy abomination birthed you must have been from outer space, based on your social ineptitude.”

“I mean, probably. I’m not sure it’s humanly possible to be as baller at rhymes as I am. There's probably some alien shit going on there. Like I was sent here from the ill beats equivalent of Krypton.” He deadpans.

You rub your temple. “Holy fuck, are you eleven or something?”

“You mean on a scale of one to ten? Damn Vantas, you’re making me blush,” He rebukes, smirking at you cheekily.

“If the scale is a barometer of obnoxiousness, you mean, then yes. Eleven would actually be an understatement. The level of asinine stupidity emitted from you is so strong, in fact, that the scale, though it lacks any physical properties, would break. Your frivolity has managed to break something that shouldn’t even be logically breakable. Give yourself a pat on the back, you moron-savant.” You berate, pointedly ignoring his smug, freckled face.

“Maybe it broke because I’m just too much babe for you to handle. You can’t even comprehend the Strider aura,” He offers as you both weave through the many people walking around confusedly  in search of their classes.

You fold your arms. “Is that what you call the huge cloud of putrid stink that surrounds you?”

“Okay, one: I smell awesome. Two: seriously, you’re sniffing Me? Gay,” He answers smugly.

You shoot him an icy glare. “You’re the one who chooses to interpret it that way!”

Just then, you arrive at a worn wooden door labeled, “230” in severe metal letters. You push it open, cringing at the awful squeak the old hinges make, and walk inside. You are bewildered to discover that there are only about a dozen other kids in the room, and that in spite of this, there are only a couple of vacant desks.

“Wow, is this everybody?” Dave wonders aloud from behind you.

Since the bell had already rung quite a while ago, you hurry to one of the desks. In keeping with the universe’s vendetta against you, Dave chooses the desk next to yours.

“It is a small class,” The instructor explains as she rises from her desk, her tone chipper. She walks over to the whiteboard at the front of the room, her long, blue skirt billowing about her legs. “I am Ms. Serket, but you may call me Aranea.” She gestures to the name written in immaculate cursive on the board.

“This is a very special language arts class, because the emphasis is truly on the ‘arts’. Everyone, I would like to give all of you a warm welcome to creative writing class,” She prefaces giddily, adjusting her cat-eye glasses. “This is the first year we’ve offered this elective as an alternative to a conventional eighth-grade english class. I hope you’re all excited to pioneer this new curriculum with me, fellow scholars!”

She walks over to her desk and collects a stack of papers. “You’re each going to receive a copy of the syllabus. On it is a list of necessary materials for the class, followed by an overview of the rules. You’ll notice that the first material is a college-ruled, 100-page spiral notebook…”

Your eyebrows knit, and you begin to tune out the teacher’s explanation. _This_ is the class you ended up sharing with Dave? Nothing about him would indicate that he would opt to take an artsy-fartsy alternative English class.

Luckily, the next hour and a half goes by relatively quickly, and before you know it, the bell rings. Granted, you spent about half of it arguing with Dave over relatively inane things, but you’ll admit that being in a class with someone irritating you know is better than being in a room full of strangers. Most of class is spent doing typical first-day-of-school things, like sharing names or gathering in a circle and recounting stories from summer vacation. It beats doing actual work, but it’s difficult to give a shit about the anecdotes of a bunch of people you barely know.

You’re relieved when the bell rings, signaling the end of the school day. You hope that this means you won’t have to interact with Dave anymore, but as you make your way to the busses, he follows you like a fly to shit, continuing on whatever absurd tangent he was on before class was dismissed.

“...it was the shittiest movie I’d ever seen, but I couldn’t look away. It was like a car crash, except the car was being driven by some tool with a dingy wife-beater and a greasy mullet. It’s like when you’re driving on the freeway and you see some fucked-up car accident, but you’re not paying attention to the road, so _you_ get into a car accident. But John was enjoying it. He was eating that shit up like a fat kid at Thanksgiving. Like I got into this car accident ‘cause I was rubbernecking, and John’s sitting in the back seat clapping his hands… and also eating Thanksgiving stuffing I guess,” He babbles in an unending stream of inane nonsense and mixed metaphors.

You abruptly stop in the middle of the hall, causing him to gracelessly collide with you.

“Jesus dude, you should have brake lights or something.” He gripes from behind you.

You turn on your heel, facing him. “No, _you_ should have some sort of off-button! Do you just share every idiotic thought that pops into your head? Why can’t you keep your fucking internal monologue to yourself? I can’t even hear myself think because your fucking voice is seeping into my brain and derailing every coherent thought I attempt to have.”

“Didn’t you rant for like ten minutes about eraser shavings like… literally half an hour ago?” He asks, straightening his sunglasses. “I think after having to listen to that, I’m entitled to vent about the scarring I experienced from sitting through one of John’s awful movies.”

You turn around and continue walking. “At least my voice isn’t nearly as grating as yours. I can’t fathom how a human being can talk with less emotion than a goddamn Speak-and-Spell. You sound like fucking Daria, and yes, I do mean in every respect, since your voice is not only monotone, but you sound like a girl.”

“If by that you mean my voice is like that of an Odyssian siren, then yes, I do sound like a girl.” He retorts, still utilizing his monotone.

You roll your eyes and push your way through the crowd towards the main exit. “No, by that I meant you sound like your fucking balls haven’t dropped.”

“You’re right, they didn’t; it was less of a drop and more of a plunge. Like my balls dropped so hard, it registered on the Richter scale. It was a goddamn cascade, man.”

You grimace. “Thanks for that visual image, I think I just threw up in my mouth. If any girls nearby heard that, they lost the desire for any physical contact with male human beings and have instead elected to reproduce by cell-division.” You push one of the large, metal doors open and walk out into the late-August heat.

“I don’t blame ‘em. I’m just too cool for some people to handle, man.” He adds.

You notice that Rose is standing at the bike rack, and your glance over your shoulder at him. “I have to get on the bus, so why don’t you go apall your cousin or something? I bet she’s looking for you, anyway.”

“Guess this means goodbye. Never let go, Jack, because this door can only fit my fat ass on it.” He weaves out from behind you and makes his way towards Rose. “Catch ya later, Vargas.”

“It’s _Vantas_ , shit-for-brains!” You call after him.

 

_October 2, 2009_

_Karkat_

 

As it happened, Dave also shared a class with you on the second rotation, too. He, you, and John all had art together seventh period, during which Dave would do absolutely nothing productive. His only contributions would be to draw shitty comics, or screw with your drawings while you weren’t looking. It was only your luck that you should end up in classes with him both days, destroying any hope you had of a reprieve from his nonsense.

You grew used to enduring his antics, though, and before you knew it, the first quarter was already nearing its end. You certainly thought, however, that he would’ve moved back to Houston by October, though. John and Rose made it seem as though he was just visiting, but it seemed to you that he had long overstayed what would conventionally be called a “visit”. You couldn’t stave off your curiosity, so one day in History, you felt compelled to ask Rose.

“So,” You begin, watching Rose inquisitively as she uses a marker to outline the British colonies in America.

“...so?” She repeats, raising an eyebrow, but not looking up from her work.

“How long is Dave supposed to stick around?” You venture.

She exhales through her nose impatiently. “I don’t know.” Her marker stills, and she looks up at you. “Of what concern is it to you?”

You chew the inside of your cheek. “I was just curious I guess.”

“And this would have nothing to do with the rapport Dave has built with Terezi?” She inquired, going back to her work.

How could you forget? There’s nothing more grating that having to watch Dave’s exchanges with Terezi at lunch. Every day, he presents her the abhorrent comics he draws in art to her, then describes them to her when he _so astutely_ recalls that she’s blind. They then proceed to exchange drawings, both of which appearing as though a blind person drew them in spite of the fact Dave has perfectly normal eyesight. There are even some days, to your trepidation, that he draws his awful amorphous characters on her arms and hands. You can’t even attempt a normal conversation with Terezi when he’s present anymore, because the only thing you feel compelled to do is sit there and seethe.

“I’ll take your anguished expression as a yes. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but perhaps you should take Dave’s advice and work on your ‘poker face’,” She comments bemusedly.

A hint of hurt must have crossed your face, because her expression softens. “If it’s such a source of turmoil for you, why don’t you take it up with him? Don’t you share your next class with him?”

“Don’t make me laugh, Lalonde. If I know him, he’ll just keep hitting on her even more insistently if I tell him to stop. He likes to see me squirm, and I’m not going to give him the satisfaction,” You bemoan.

Her marker makes a soft scratching sound as she colors in Massachusetts. “I would still recommend expressing your point of view to him. I think that Dave is capable of being a better friend than you give him credit for.” She pauses to cap her marker and switch to a different color. She puts on an inflection you assume is meant to imitate your own before continuing, “‘Dave, I’m pursuing a relationship with Terezi and I would appreciate it if you respected my wishes as my friend’. Should you say something like that, it might even garner Terezi’s appreciation because you showed outright interest instead doing… whatever it is you’re doing with her now.”

“Hmm, that gives me an idea. Maybe the Strider-Lalonde clan isn’t as droll as I initially thought.” You wonder aloud.

“So you’re taking my advice for a change?” She asks cheekily.

“No, not really. I’m just taking inspiration from it. I’m not going to bother trying to convince Dave to back off. Rather, I’ll just beat him at his own damn game.” You take Roses incredulous look at a signal to continue, “Using my unrivaled knowledge of romance, I’ll show Terezi the savant of romantic gestures. A fucking modern day casanova. Then Dave will back off because of how righteously outclassed he’s been.”

Rose curls her lip. “That is… not even remotely what I suggested.”

“Tough shit. My plan is already in motion, Lalonde. Thank you for your encouragement.”

Before she even has time to object, the bell rings.

 

You elect to keep Dave at arm’s length during art class, ignoring his usual attempts to irritate you. Your eyes are fixed on the clock; it felt as though the period was going by at a snail’s pace. After what felt like an eternity, you haul ass out of the art room and to the cafeteria without so much as a passing comment to Dave or John. You are a man on a mission.

Terezi is sitting at your friends’ usual table, early as always. She runs her fingers over the pages of a braille book with one hand, and pops Mike and Ikes into her red-lipsticked mouth with another.

You try to walk over and take a seat as smoothly as possible, but you slip in food on the floor and when you bring your hands to the table to steady yourself, you slam them on the surface as if you’re playing bad-cop in a shitty movie and you’re about to interrogate her.

“Hey, Karkat,” she greets without even hearing your voice. “I’m going to assume you slipped in that huge puddle of creamed corn over there.”

“Uh, yeah.” You say, your voice cracking. You drop into the seat next to her. “How did you know?”

She pours some candy into her hand, then dumps it into her mouth. “It got in my shoe when I walked over here, but I didn’t slip because I wasn’t in full-sprint like an idiot. Did you run here thinking it was pizza pocket day?”

“No, fuck the pizza pockets.” You say.

She chuckles. “I wouldn’t recommend that.”

You roll your eyes and set your backpack on the table. “What are you reading?”

“A Study in Scarlet.” She answers though a mouthful of Mike and Ikes. “But whenever you talk it fucks me up and I read the dialogue in your voice.” She pauses thoughtfully, scratching her chin. “Come to think of it, you’re kind of like an angry Watson.”

You blink. “How the fuck do you figure?”

“Because you complain while Sherlock, in this case me, does all the work, just like Watson. Watson’s job is to make Sherlock look smart and be amazed by his kick ass sleuthing skills.” She explains.

For some reason, you say the first thing that comes to mind, which also happens to be the worst thing to say. “Weren’t they fucking, though?”

She laughs, though Terezi’s laugh would more accurately be described as a cackle. “No, but I like to think so.”

Your face heats up, but you take it as a positive sign. “Gross.”

“You suggested it.” She says, giving you her usual toothy grin.

“So uh…” You shift uncomfortably in your seat. “Would you want to… like…”

“Want to what?” She prods.

“Maybe hang out? You know, this weekend? Watch some Law or Order or something?” You propose.

She pokes your cheek. “You’re adorable, Karkat. You’re always welcome to watch some Law and Order with the Scourge Sisters.”

“No, no, I mean like… without Vriska.” You clarify, your voice strained.

“What’s going on without me?” Comes Vriska’s voice from behind you, and you jump out of your chair.

Just then, Dave and John approach of the opposite direction.

“Jesus H., where was the fire? You ran out of there like you were fuckin’ prairie doggin’ it, Karkat.” Dave asks before unfortunately taking a seat next to you.

John snorts. “Dude, gross.” He and Vriska take a seat on the opposite side of the table.

Terezi pinches your cheek. “Karkat was trying to kick you out of our Law and Order marathon,” she explains to Vriska.

“Yeah, that’s not happening. Mack on Terezi on your own time, Karkat. Law and Order SVU is our thing.” She asserts as she opens John’s lunchbox and takes out a bag of Oreos.

Your cheeks darken, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Terezi. “Karkat, you cheeks feel really warm. Are you _embarrassed_?” She asks in a tone not unlike the one a person would use when talking a toddler or a dog.

“So, are you and Terezi a thing?” Dave asks, taking the bait.

Before anyone else can say anything, though, Vriska scoffs. “Please. They’ve acted that way for years. It’s just how they are.” Never have you felt a stronger desire to punch her the face, and there are _many_ times when you’ve wanted to punch Vriska in the face.

Rose, Kanaya, and Jade finally arrive, taking the last available seats at the table.

Jade sets her Manthro Chaps lunchbox down in front of her. “Hey everyone.” She glances at you, and her eyes widen. “Aw, you guys started embarrassing Karkat without me!”

“That’s not what we’re doing!” You yell pathetically, your voice cracking.

John reaches for his lunchbox, but Vriska picks it up and begins to rifle through it again. He perks up. “Ooh, I’ve got one! Karkat used to think epitome was pronounced ‘ep-ih-tohm’.”

Vriska pops an Oreo into her mouth and smirks. “You’re one to talk. You used to call internet routers ‘rooters’.”

“That’s an honest mistake! You can never tell if it’s pronounced ‘rout’ or ‘root’ based on the spelling!” He says, taking his lunchbox back while Vriska’s hands are occupied by the Oreos. He quickly takes his sandwich out and unwraps it before Vriska spirits it away along with everything else.

Jade chuckles. “One time when we were watching one of his rom-coms, Karkat told me it was his dream to get a dozen roses on Valentine’s Day.”

You cover your face with your hands. “Jade, what the fuck?”

Dave smirks and unearths a notebook from his backpack. “Hey Pyrope, got that straight dope for ya.”

Terezi snorts, taking the notebook from him. “Jesus Christ, you’re so white.” She thumbs through it until he stops her at the most recent entry, which looks to you like everything Dave’s ever drawn before. What a bold step in a new direction.

You watch bewilderedly as she drags her tongue over the center of the page, smearing the ink of the drawings.

Dave’s eyebrows raise practically into his hairline. “Hot.”

“If you had any idea how seldom Dave washes his hands, you wouldn’t have done that.” You comment, trying not to show how appalled you are.

“Dude, I probably wash my hands more than you do.” He argues.

“Strider, I once watched you chew your nails, stick your hand in your pants, then reach into a bag of doritos, in the span of only two minutes. All with the same hand.”

John cringes. “Karkat, I’m trying to eat over here! I don’t want to hear about how you stared at Dave while he had his hand in his pants.” He chastises through a mouthful of ham sandwich.

“Fuck you, at least I brush my teeth. You breath smells like something crawled up someone’s ass and died, and then the person the ass belonged to _also_ died.” He rebukes.

Terezi’s brow furrows. “Guys, I honestly don’t give a shit.”

You ignore Terezi’s comment and grit your teeth. “You smell like you haven’t seen a stick of deodorant in your entire life, swamp-ass!”

“Your hair is such a fucking mess, I could say the same about you and shampoo.” He argues unfalteringly.

“I bet you don’t even own a bar of soap, you fucking neanderthal. I’ve cleaned month-old litter boxes that smell exponentially better than a single hair on your putrid carcass. Maybe it’s not fair to call you a neanderthal, because even they had better personal hygiene than you.”

“Oh yeah? Well, uh, you smell like if someone took a dump on a butt.” Dave retorts lamely. You’re close enough where you can actually see him cringe behind his shades at his own flimsy comeback. Speaking of which, when did your faces get so close?

After that, the argument stops, and everyone at the table is dead quiet.

“Anyway.” Terezi draws out, “That comic tasted great, Dave.”

“Yeah, so do I.” He jokes, and you swear his comment causes a surge of bile to go up your throat.

Suffice to say, your advances failed to dissuade Dave, and as if that wasn’t enough, Vriska obliterated whatever chance you had at any alone time with Terezi. It was time to step up your game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jfc sorry this took so long. i had this part written out months ago but i couldn’t decide if i wanted it to stand alone.
> 
> next update will prolly be out in february.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teenagers Being Dumb and Catty: The Chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's going to be a little discussion about terezi's blindness in this, just so everyone knows. idk if anything will bother anybody but i'm just giving a heads-up.
> 
> this chapter is still pretty rough, so shoot me a private message if you find any typos.

_October 5, 2009_

_Karkat_

 

When you see Terezi at the beginning of the next school week, you elect to take a more direct approach. You would present her with a boon of your affection; a book of scratch-and-sniff Care Bears stickers you bought at the craft store over the weekend. It isn’t the most elegant gift, but starting off slow is of tantamount importance in this delicate situation.

You make a point of finding her as soon as you can, so you take a detour through her neighborhood on your walk to school. Your effort proves fruitful when you find her walking arm-in-arm with her college-age sister. You wish you lived close enough to her to _always_ be the one to guide her to school, but it is what it is.

“Oh, hey Karnasty!” Latula calls as you approach.

“Hey,” You shout back awkwardly.

Terezi grins in a random direction. “Karkat? Are you lost or something? Maybe Latula should be leading _you_ to school.”

You cross the street, stopping in front of them. “Have you considered that I came here out of the goodness of my goddamn heart? You know, to accompany you to school like a decent friend?”

“Well, aren’t you a saint?” She retorts sardonically, smirking in her fashion.

“Actually,” Latula interjects, “It would be really rad if he could lead you the rest of the way to school. Y’know, since you're both headed to the same place.” She turns to you, “How about it, homes?”

Her suggestion catches you off guard. “I mean… yes. Obviously. I was actually just about to suggest that.”

“Tubular!” She steps away from Terezi and grabs your forearm with surprising strength. She wrenches your arm forward and hooks it roughly around Terezi’s. She steps back from the two of you, and raises her hand. “Up top.”

You make the foolish mistake of raising your hand to hers, and she comes at you with a slap that leaves your palm red and throbbing. You hiss in pain, your hand recoiling.“Jesus Christ, you’re going to break someone’s fingers with that.”

Latula simply chuckles. “Thanks a load for the help, dude.” She turns to her sister and whispers, “If he starts giving you trouble, shoot me a text.”

She turns around, drops her skateboard on the ground, and speeds down the road in what seems like a flash of red and turquoise. You stare down the road long after she shrinks into the distance and around the corner, your mind blank.

“What gives, Karkat? You gotta move your legs to to school.” Terezi complains.

You shake your head and run your free hand through your hair. “Lay off, I was just thinking.” You answer feebly.

“Maybe my expectations are too high, but I think you can walk and think at the same time. Let’s try to get to school before Christmas.” She says dryly.

You turn on your heel and begin walking, causing Terezi to stumble. She regains her footing though, and you’re finally off in the direction of the school.

The two of you spend the first few minutes in what may have been comfortable silence for her but was unbearably awkward for you. Your clammy hands fidget in the pockets of your jacket, but you decide to focus on cacophonous coos of the mourning doves on the telephone wires.

“I’m excited for Halloween,” Terezi mentions.

You raise an eyebrow. “Are you excited for Halloween, or for the surplus of candy associated with it?”

“Both, actually.” She clarifies. “I haven’t thought about what I’m doing yet, though.”

Your mind flicks to the Halloween masquerade Feferi hosts every year. You hadn’t even considered asking Terezi to it, but it seems like the perfect way to get in her good graces. You make a mental note to bring it up later.

“That reminds me,” You say, stopping. You reach into the zippered pocket on the front of your backpack and withdraw the goods. “I got you this.”

You hand her the sticker sheet, which she immediately raises to her nose. “This smells like Froot Loops. What is it?”

You continue walking again. “It’s a sheet of stickers. They’re scratch and sniff.”

She slowly runs her fingers over the glossy service, noting the rigid parts where the stickers were cut. “Lisa Frank?” She guesses.

“Care Bears,” You correct.

She pauses. “Huh… thanks. The monkey ones I had were just beginning to fade.”

You frown; Dave got her those. “Well, these aren’t as cheap and shitty as the monkey ones.”

“...the smell seems to go away at about the same time regardless of the brand.” she retorts as she scratches one of the bears printed on the sheet. She holds it up to her nose, her brow furrowing. “ Blueberry,” she deduces. “Is this Grumpy Bear?”

You peak over her shoulder and your gaze falls on the sticker she has her finger on. “Yeah, I think so. He’s the blue one with the rain cloud, right?”

She doesn’t answer, instead wordlessly peeling the sticker off of the sheet and roughly pressing it to your shirt. “Perfect.”

“Thanks.” You say sarcastically.

She smirks, stowing the sheet of stickers in her satchel. “You bought it.”

The red brick of the school emerges from behind the rows of houses when you turn a corner, and the foot traffic thickens. Little groups of students trail listlessly down the hill towards the main entrance, like ants to a nest. More cars, also filled with students, occupy the street adjacent to where the two of you walk. The stink of exhaust fumes hangs in the air as they creep forward. A muffled cacophony chatter emanates from the nearby campus.

“Crap like this is why someone needs to walk me to school.” Terezi comments.

You glance at her. “What, the traffic?”

“More like the awful smell and noise it causes. I can’t tell my ass from my elbow in all the chaos.”

“It surprises me that you choose to go to this shitty public school when there are so many tight-ass private institutions chomping at the bit to take you.” You wonder aloud.

She gives a short cackle at that. “They need me more than I need them. Those people only want me because having a ‘gifted’ blind girl makes them look good. They just want take credit for me.”

“Oh, it’s another ‘principle’ thing. Right.” You answer dryly. “The people luxuries are available to are never the ones who want them most. I’d kill to go to a school with a heated pool and a library bigger than a gas station mini mart, no matter how shitty their pretenses were for giving me a scholarship.”

She smiles. “You want me to break your legs so they’ll take ya?”

“Do we seem like Vriska and Tavros to you? Fuck’s sake, I said I’d want to go regardless of the pretenses, not regardless of a permanent handicap.” You argue.

“That reminds me,” She says, her brow furrowing. “How’s John getting on with Vriska?”

You raise an eyebrow. “She’s your best friend.”

“And he’s one of your’s. I want his side, genius.” You see her roll her clouded eyes behind her tinted glasses.

You curl your lip. “Don’t get too generous with that ‘best friends’ label. Sollux didn’t just fall off the face of the Earth, you know.”

“He might as well have. I haven’t seen him with you in almost a year. You rag on me for staying here, but which one of us chose our friends over a fancy institute? Wasn’t Sollux.”

You almost let go of her on impulse. You choose to tighten your grip instead. “Fine, whatever. Call John my best friend.”

She sighs. “Anyway, I wanted to know if John is… y’know, enjoying her company as much as she is his.”

“Oh, uh,” You wrack your brain for instances of John mentioning her. “Yeah, I don’t know. I mean, he’s patient as fuck for putting up with some of the things she does, that’s for sure. He hasn’t said anything to me about her specifically, but given her reputation and what I’ve seen, if she likes him as much as you say she does, she’s sure as shit not doing a good job of showing it.”

She chuckles. “Maybe you should take your own advice.”

Your cheeks redden. “You asked what I fucking thought. Don’t twist my words around.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” She waves you off. “But going back to Vriska and John, I pretty much get the same impression of this that you do. She’s crazy about him, but she seems to treat Kanaya and I better than she does John. No wonder Kanaya-” She cuts herself off. “Sorry, don’t-”

“I know about the shit with Kanaya, don’t worry about that. I know her a lot better than you think I do. In fact, if you’re going to accuse anyone other than Sollux of being my best friend, Kanaya’s a better candidate than Egbert. Jesus Christ.”

She nods. “Alright. But like I was saying before, my point is that she treats her friends better than the guy who’s supposed to be her boyfriend.”

“She’s always done that.” You remark.

She frowns. “Yeah, I know that, too.”

“Although I can’t fault you for thinking shit would go smoother with John. I honestly thought he’d stand up for himself more than Tavros.” You recall, stopping at a curb before crossing to the side of the street the school is on. “Pun not intended.”

Terezi smiles. “Nice one, though. But you’re not giving Tavros enough credit.” She pauses and chews her lip. “Don’t tell anyone I told you this, but Tavros is actually the one who broke up with Vriska, not the other way around.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Fuck, really? Damn, thats-”

“Yo Terezi!” From behind comes a familiar voice and the sound of plastic wheels on pavement.

You rub your temple. “God damn it.”

You hear Dave kickoff. He speeds up until he’s skateboarding next to you. “Hey, what happened to Latula? She was going to lend me some bearings.” He asks.

Terezi opens her mouth to answer, but you cut in. “ _I’m_ walking her to school today, Dave.” You explain icily.

“No shit. I was asking _why_ , Einstein.” He rebukes, his blank expression unfaltering.

You gesture to yourself. “Because Latula trusts me.”

“He stopped by on a day she had classes.” She clarifies, turning her head to glare in the direction of your voice.

He kicks off again, this time more gently. “Gotcha. Shame I don’t live close enough to walk you to school, though. I know a lot of hand-to-hand combat.”

“We’re not in the goddamn Bronx, Dave. No one’s gonna jump us at seven in the morning in fucking upstate New York.” You look him over. “Also, you look like you barely weigh a hundred pounds soaking wet.”

He smirks. “Hey, so do you. The difference is that I know how to use what I’ve got.”

“I could probably kick both of your asses, so watch it.” Terezi threatens only half-jokingly.

Dave’s forehead creases. “Then why do you need someone to take you to school?”

You scoff. “She’s blind, you ignoramus. Her parents aren’t afraid of her being attacked, they’re more worried she’ll get lost or get hit by a car.”

“What are you, Karkat, My dad? I can speak for myself.” She chastises, visibly annoyed.

Dave persists. “No offense, Terezi, but I really doubt you could take me down.”

Instead of replying, she wrenches her arm away from you, plucks Dave off of his skateboard, and suplexes him into the flower bed next to the sidewalk, all in one fluid motion.

You blink. This is far from the first time she’s done that, but it surprises you every time nonetheless.

She stands over him with her hands on her hips, smiling widely. “Say that to me again, coolkid. I dare you.”

He digs around in his pocket and unearths a bag of skittles. He shakily holds it up to her from his position on the ground. “Got this for ya’,” He says, smirking handsomely despite being disheveled.

You cringe at your thoughts, making a mental note never to describe Dave or anything he does as “handsome” ever again.

Terezi snatches the crumpled package of candy from his hands. “Thank you, Dave.” She then turns on her heels, whips open her cane and struts down the sidewalk to the school entrance.

You stare after her without moving, watching her as she walks down the hill and passes her way through the large double doors.

“Is my skateboard okay?” Dave asks, sitting up.

You roll your eyes before looking down the hill. His skateboard is at the bottom, the front wheels caught on the curb where the road bends. “Yes,” You answer curtly.

“Cool.” He says, standing.

“Smooth going there, dumbass.” You jeer.

He begins walking away. “That makes two of us.”

 

_October 29, 2009_

_Terezi_

 

“Why are we eating lunch in the library?” Vriska asks through a mouthful of what smells like pizza. John went home sick after his first class, so Vriska didn’t have anyone to mooch lunch off of. You allowed her to use your account to buy a hot lunch, both as a consolation and as a means of coercing her into abandoning the communal table.

You narrow your eyes. “Is anyone around?”

“No one we know. Answer my question.” She demands.

“Alright,” You lower your voice, “I’m here because I need a break from Dave and Karkat.”

She scoffs. “We all do. Welcome to the club.”

You take a clementine out of your satchel. “Trust me, I need a break more than usual.”

“I’m just joshing you. I know what you meant. Damn, they’re relentless with you.” She agrees.

You dig your fingernail into the skin of the fruit and begin to peel it. “It’s the same shit every time! One of them starts kissing up to me, then the other gets there and they start fighting.”

You hear Vriska take a sip from her carton of milk. “Why don’t you just pick one?” She suggests.

“They’re both really possessive and take everything personally, so if I pick one, it’ll ruin my friendship with the other. Then, when things inevitably don’t last, neither will be my friend.” You explain as you finish peeling the clementine.

“‘When things inevitably don’t last’?” She repeats, “Since when have you been this pessimistic? Seems like you don’t want to date either of them.”

You separate a slice from the others and pop it into your mouth. “After watching them bicker like a bunch of toddlers, I honestly don’t. I was more interested in Dave in begin with, since he seemed like a change of pace from Karkat’s melodrama, but I’m discovering as I get to know Dave more that he’s really not all that different.”

“How the fuck didn’t you notice that from the beginning? They might as well be the same guy as far as I’m concerned,” Vriska argues, “They both love the sound of their own voices, they’re both creepily possessive of you… Christ, I can’t think of two worse people to be fighting over you.”

“Thanks for the support,” you say wryly. “...not that you we really a fan of either of them to begin with. I should take what you think into account more.”

Vriska chuckles. “I have good instincts when it comes to people.”

“I just wish they would act like normal human beings instead of fighting all the time. It’s entertaining to watch them fight, don’t get me wrong, but I hate that I have to be the one to mediate all the damn time.” You complain.

“Hey, there’s always Kanaya for that,” Vriska jokes.

You laugh, spit and clementine juice spraying out of your mouth.

The bookcase squeaks as you lean against it. “God, I almost wish I was a guy, so they would just be friends with me instead of fighting over me.”

“Ha! They would probably fight over you regardless.” Vriska retorts.

“Am I really that alluring?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.

Vriska takes another sip of her milk. “Obviously, but that’s not why. When I first met him, Dave gave me serious gay vibes. Did you hear about what happened with him and Rose?”

You smile impishly. “No, what?”

“We need to hang out with Rose more. I swear, I like her more every time I talk to her,” She begins, “But anyway, she told me that she walked in on Dave in the bathroom, and he screamed so loud that it woke her mom up. She was trying to sleep off a hangover, and she was so mad, she took the bathroom door off the hinges.”

You snicker. “The idea of those two living under the same roof is kind of horrifying. I feel bad for John.”

“But that’s not all of it. The reason why Dave freaked out so bad was apparently because he was trying on one of Rose’s skirts when she walked in on him.” Vriska continues.

“That’s adorable.” You manage between fits of laughter, “But Dave’s interest is genuine- trying on a skirt doesn’t mean anything when it comes to that.”

She snorts. “I know it doesn’t. I just love talking crap about him. And all the other guys we hang out with, for that matter.”

“Well, as fun as taking the piss out of Dave and Karkat is, I need advice. There’s got to be some way I can reject them without losing their friendship.” You puzzle.

“I might have a solution,” A new voice offers. You hear soft footsteps as the newcomer approaches and takes a seat next to you and Vriska. Her perfume is unmistakable.

Vriska clicks her tongue. “God damn it, Kanaya, can’t you leave well enough alone?”

“Terezi needs relationship council, and I think her better option is someone with some level of competence in that department.” Kanaya contends. “Terezi, I think your best option would be to open and honest with them. Explain that their efforts to woo you have only alienated you, and that it’s emotionally taxing to be around them when they act that way.”

You narrow your eyes. “Why are you in the library, anyway? Did you follow us?”

“No, actually. I came to check out some books for my history assignment, and you happen to be discussing your love triangle in the reference section.”

“How long have you been listening?” You press, your fist balling around the clementine peels.

You hear the click of her undoing the clasp of a purse. “Not long at all. The first thing I heard was something about Vriska loving to ‘talk crap’, and that’s nothing new to me. Your disinterest in dating either of your suitors was also something I figured before.”

“Of course you would,” Vriska accused, “You stick your nose in everything. You probably know more about us than some of our parents do.”

She gives a slight chuckle. “That’s not much of an accomplishment. Most teenagers hide things from their parents.”

“As much as the snooping bothers me,” You concede, “I could actually stand to have your help. You’re saying I should just drop the bombshell?”

“Not necessarily. I’m not as well versed in pseudo-psychology as Rose is, but maybe you can suggest that the problem isn’t them, but with lack of civility towards each other. It seems a little less personal that way.” She advises. “You also have a good opportunity for it coming up.”

You hear the soft crackling of Vriska picking her nail polish off. “What do you mean?” She asks.

“Karkat told me a few days ago that he was going to ask to escort you to Feferi’s Halloween party tomorrow at lunch. Coincidentally, earlier today Rose revealed to me that Dave had the same intentions.” Kanaya admits. There is a soft ‘pop’ as she takes the lid off of a makeup container. From the smell, you would guess that it is a lip product.

You press your palm to your forehead. “Jesus…”

“What the fuck? Why did Feferi invite Dave? She doesn’t even know him.” Vriska asks in disbelief. Her voice raises to the point that the librarian shushes her.

The pop sounds again; you figure that Kanaya must have closed the lipstick. “I think he might have been asked to DJ.” She speculates.

“So you mean to tell me that they’re both going to try to ask me to the same event at the same time in the same place? What the hell?” You venture.

Kanaya sighs. “I’m not sure if it was intentional or not, but yes. It will be a good opportunity to tell them both openly at the same time, though.”

“What a mess.” You bemoan, “But there isn’t really an easy way to deal with this.”

Kanaya nods. “There isn’t.”

“This ought to be good,” Vriska adds. You can hear her rubbing her hands together. “If you need me to help you kick someone’s ass, I’m here.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” You say, smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> much shorter wait than last time, eh? happy valentine's day, everyone.

**Author's Note:**

> i drew some reference art for the human trolls:
> 
> http://ghostydraws.tumblr.com/post/148527251077/some-human-geeks-for-a-davekat-fic-im-writing
> 
> karkat is short, but still a little taller than terezi. he's half-indian, half irish. his nails are painted because of kanaya, and he has braces because his teeth are hella janky. kanaya is going through a pseudo-goth phase, and is unusually tall for a girl her age. vriska has some chemical burns, a glass eye, and a prosthetic arm as a result of the accident that also blinded terezi and crippled tavros. i just really like ginger terepis for some reason, so. she wears an assload of bright colors, and her shittily drawn necklace is supposed t be a dragon with an orb.
> 
> do you guys want me to do reference art for the rest of the trolls? i'm itching to do sollux and feferi even though they aren't in this much.


End file.
